All the Pretty Lies (17 page)

The pragmatist in me says that I need to let
my id run free and get her out of my system so I can focus on what
I need to focus on. Which is not a woman. And certainly not
this
woman. Within a few seconds of the thought crossing my
mind, the decision is made. It didn’t take much convincing at all.
The old me was salivating at the hint of blood in the water. I felt
him creeping back over me, rearing his ugly, hedonistic, egocentric
head. And just this once, I welcome him back.

Already, I feel a stab of guilt. I tamp it
down with an iron fist, reminding myself,
Live, no
regrets.

“You need to call home and make whatever
excuses you need to for staying a little late at work tonight,” I
tell Sloane.

Her head comes up and her eyes meet mine. She
doesn’t ask questions. “Okay. How late will I be?”

“That’s up to you. But you’ll definitely be
home before sunrise.”

I see on her face that she’s not particularly
thrilled with that answer, but I warned her I wasn’t a breakfast
kind of guy. That needs to sink in before we leave here
tonight.

“Okay,” she says again.

“Why don’t you start wrapping it up? I’ll get
Gil to close up for me.”

“I thought you didn’t let anybody close up
the shop for you.”

“I’m making an exception tonight.”

Now that I’ve decided to let my inner animal
off the chain, I’m anxious to get out of here. With Sloane. She
wants to spread her wings, show the world she’s grown up. I can
help her with that. I’ll help her grow up. The right way. And real
fast.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE- Sloane

I walk outside to call my father. It’s
humiliating enough that my family is so overprotective that, at
twenty-one, I still have to call home to tell someone where I’ll
be. But, it is what it is. There’s no changing it. At least not
tonight. That’s what I’m trying to do, but it’s a work in
progress.

“Locke,” Dad answers in his clipped way. I
know the caller ID shows my name, but still, he answers the same
way he does when anyone calls. I roll my eyes. He’s a cop through
and through.

“Hey, Dad. I’m just calling to tell you I’ll
be late tonight. Sarah and I are—”

“Nope. You and Sarah aren’t anything. You
need to come straight home tonight.”

“Why? We won’t be—”

“Doesn’t matter,” he interrupts again. “This
is important. You need to come straight home. In fact, Sig is off
tonight. He’ll be making sure you get here all right.”

“What? I’m getting a police escort home from
work
from my brother?”

“No, your brother, who just happens to be a
police officer, is making sure you get home safely. That’s
all.”

“Semantics, Dad. This is ridiculous! When are
y’all gonna see that I’m all grown up? That I can do—”

“This has nothing to do with your age or how
grown up you are, Sloane. Steven has gotten a threat. We’re just
taking precautions.”

“Dad, y’all are cops. You get threatened all
the time.” And they do. They’ve pissed off ninety percent of the
criminal element in the greater Atlanta area.

“This isn’t like that. This
is…different.”

A little chill wiggles down my spine.
“Different how?”

“Just different, Sloane. Look, this is
important. And it’s non-negotiable. Sig will be there at two. You
be ready.”

“Dad…” I sigh. On the one hand, I’m
struggling with still being seen and treated like Young Sloane, the
child. The little girl I used to be. But on the other hand, I’m
worried. While they all might overreact when it comes to
me
,
they’re usually all full of piss and vinegar when it comes to
holding their own. This must be a pretty big deal to get a response
like this from Dad.

“No arguments. Love you, kiddo.” And then
there’s a click. End of conversation.

I stomp my foot a few times in a fit of
pique, not very adult-like at all. But then I calm myself and head
back inside. Looks like my wild days of sexual exploration are
going to have to be postponed for a little while longer.

Hemi is cleaning his tattoo chair when I go
back in. He looks up at me, smoke in his eyes. I give him a smile,
but it must carry all the disappointment I feel. He straightens and
I see his brow wrinkle.

“What is it?”

“Something’s going on with one of my brothers
at work. Dad’s a little worried that it somehow might affect me so
he’s sending Sig to follow me home in a little while.”

I wonder for a second how slutty it would be
to try and seduce Hemi into doing me in the bathroom. He might have
some big plan for tomorrow night, for taking my virginity, but I
could care less where it is. As long as Hemi takes it and it’s a
night full of mind-blowing passion, the other details don’t matter
to me.

Hemi’s frown deepens and he walks to me,
abandoning the chair completely. He bends to look into my eyes and
give me his full attention. “What does that mean? Has something
happened? Which brother?”

I half laugh, half frown. “Wow! Ummm, I
wasn’t really expecting that kind of reaction.” I chuckle.
“Actually I don’t know what it is. Something with Steven being
threatened. Must be a pretty big deal for Dad to act like this.
Usually they all act like they’re bullet proof.”

“Why would your brother be threatened? And
why would it affect you?”

“My brother’s a cop. It comes with the
territory. As for it affecting me, I doubt it does. This is just an
excellent example of the Locke men and their tendencies to
overreact when it comes to me.”

“Does your father think you could be in
danger?”

Hemi seems genuinely concerned, which pleases
me. Quite a bit, actually. I find myself wanting to smile, even
though I know that reaction wouldn’t be appropriate. “Dad thinks
the wind
is a danger to me.”

Hemi steps closer to me, winding his fingers
around my upper arms. “Sloane, I’m not playing around. Does he
think you’re in danger?” He annunciates like I’m a kid who isn’t
listening closely enough.

This time I
do
frown. Not
another
overprotective man to treat me like a child! “I
don’t know, but if he does, I’m sure he’ll see to it that I’m
ensconced in a steel fortress before morning.”

“This could be serious, Sloane. Stop acting
like it’s nothing,” Hemi snaps.

“Stop treating me like a child. I get enough
of that from the
other
men in my life. I don’t need this
shit from you, too,” I bite back.

Hemi’s expression softens and his fingers
loosen and move over the skin of my arms in a caress. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t mean it like that. I’m just…I’m just worried about you.”

“And I appreciate that, but I’ll be fine. My
family will see to it. They might suffocate me in the process, but
they’ll make sure I’m safe.”

“I’m sure a house full of cops is probably
the safest place in the world, right?”

I think it’s odd that he seems like he’s
uncertain of the answer, like
he
needs
my
reassurance. “A house full of Locke cops? There’s no doubt.”

“Good. That makes me feel better,” he says.
The funny thing is, based on his expression, I doubt that’s true.
He doesn’t look like it made him feel any better
at all.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX- Hemi

“I’ll walk you out,” I tell Sloane when she
heads for the door at five minutes before two.

“You don’t have to do that,” she says,
holding out her hand to stop me from following.

“I know I don’t.” But that doesn’t keep me
from following her. Hell, I hate letting her out of my sight. For
any length of time. And not all of it is because of the guilt I
feel. Not by far.

She stops again when she gets to the door,
before pushing it open. “Seriously, my brother is already here. I
can see his truck right there,” she declares, pointing through the
smoked glass. Still, that’s not enough for me.

“Great, then I’ll introduce myself.”

I push her through the door and look around
for a truck. It’s easy to spot the big 4x4 and the giant slouching
behind the wheel, his upper body illuminated by the glow of the
dashboard lights. I guess all her brothers are huge. Thank God
Sloane got a shitload of feminine genes.

I veer toward the truck. Sloane alters her
path as well. I don’t know why it seems like she doesn’t want me to
meet anyone in her family, but I couldn’t care less. I’m going to
make sure he’s here and he’s going to follow her home before I let
her drive away. Period.

The window is rolled down and I hear some
southern rock, turned down low, drifting from the dark interior.
When we stop beside the driver side door, I see her brother
straighten up in his seat. I wonder if he’d been sleeping.

“Sig, this is Hemi. Hemi, uh…Hemi, this is my
youngest brother, Sig.” I’m sure the short stutter was over the
absence of a last name to introduce me with. I never told her. I
don’t really tell anyone my last name. That’s the thing about an
occupation like mine. People aren’t very curious
or
insistent about knowing too much about me. The majority probably
think I’m some kind of criminal, which is fine. I don’t really care
what they think.

“Nice to meet you, Sig,” I interject
smoothly, offering my hand through the window. “I just wanted to
make sure you were already here to follow her home.”

“Got it covered, man,” Sig says, taking my
hand in a firm grip. It’s not one of those too-firm grips that says
he feels threatened or that he’s trying to be all alpha and shit. I
get a lot of that. Evidently I intimidate a lot of people. I’d say
most of my family does. We’re used to a certain amount of respect
and getting what we want. I guess a lifetime of that can make us
all come across as pretty confident and commanding. It’s who we
are. Have been since birth.

“So, do you know much about what’s going on?
Sloane doesn’t know much. Should I be concerned about her coming
and going every night? Because I’m happy to make sure she gets home
all right.”

I don’t want to seem too curious, but I at
least want to give it a shot before I call Reese, see what I can
find out.

“Nah, nothing for you to worry about. We’ll
make sure she gets home on the nights she’s working out here.”

Damn.

I nod once and slap the window sill. “Sounds
good, man. Let me know if I can help.”

“Will do, brother,” Sig answers with a nod of
his own. He seems laid back and genuine. I like him right off the
bat. Not like the older one, Steven. Even if it weren’t for the
reasons I have to dislike him, I’d still think he’s an asshole.

I walk Sloane to her car and help her inside,
shutting the door snugly behind her. I wait until the engine is
started and her lights are on before I head back across the street.
To lock up. And to call Reese.

From my pocket, the phone rings as I secure
the front doors and shut off the outdoor neon sign. I take it out
as I’m cutting off the lobby lights. LEIF is displayed on the
lighted screen.

“Yeah,” I answer.

“’Sup, old man,” my younger brother, Leif,
says.

“Not much,
little boy,”
I reply,
emphasizing the misnomer. Although Leif is a couple of inches
taller than me and several pounds heavier, he was the runt growing
up and he absolutely hates any reference to it. So, when he ribs me
about my age, I rib him right back. It usually stops him in his
tracks.

I smile when I hear his
harrumph
.

“Asshole,” he mutters before he continues.
“Thought I’d check in. How goes the hunt?”

“Actually, I finally made some real
progress.” I never expected those words to taste so bitter. I think
immediately of the threats to Sloane’s brother and whether or not I
had anything to do with bringing them to her front door. Hopefully
not literally.

“You did? Great job, man! Maybe we’ll see
some justice in our lifetime.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I say absently.

For some reason, even though the pieces of
the puzzle fit, they just don’t
feel
right. I tell myself
that it has nothing to do with Sloane, but deep down, I have to
doubt myself. At least a little bit. I
can’t
let her cloud
my judgment. I’ve come too far. It means too much.

But still, I can’t disregard it either.

“You don’t sound very happy about it,
brother,” Leif says in his laid back way. He’s the easy-going one
of the family.

“I am. I…I just want to be sure.”

“Then be sure.”

“I will, dude. I just need some time.”

“That’s one thing you’ve got a shitload
of.”

“Not necessarily,” I say vaguely.

“You talking ‘bout Reese?”

I sigh. “Yeah. You know how decisive he is.
When I told him I thought I had him, he called the dogs as the
words were leaving my mouth.”

“Then you’ll just have to outsmart the
dogs.”

I smile. Even though Leif’s casual,
fun-loving attitude bugs that hell out of me these days, I still
love the simple way he has about him. Leif isn’t the type to
complicate matters. He’s straight forward and smooth, just goes
with the flow. He sees things as black and white. And for someone
like me, someone who has lived inside the thousands of shades of
gray, I envy that about him.

“I guess I will.”

“Bow-wow, dude,” he offers in his surfer way.
“Bow-wow.”

I hear a click. I’m shaking my head as I dial
Reese’s number. When his voicemail picks up, I realize he sounds
very much like the bark that Leif was teasing about. It occurs to
me that switching gears from Leif to Reese is the emotional
equivalent of going from a hot tub to a pool of ice. I leave him
word to call me when he gets in.

At least I won’t be getting frostbite
tonight,
I think as I ponder how aggravated he’s going to be
when I tell him I need him to rein in the dogs until I investigate
a little more. Something just doesn’t feel right.